


Loving Care

by Elphen



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Adorable Hamish, Alpha John, Alpha Sebastian Moran, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Bath Time, Beta Sarah, Blow Jobs, Caring John, Caring Sherlock, Class Difference, Debutante Ball, Jealous John, Jealous Sherlock, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Irene, Omega Moriarty, Omega Sherlock, Omega Verse, Pheromones, Pining Sherlock, Possessive John, Scenting, Scents & Smells, Scheming Moriarty, Self-Lubrication, Sexual Tension, Supportive Irene, high society - Freeform, male nurturer, shoulder stand - sex position
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-25 05:22:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9804350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elphen/pseuds/Elphen
Summary: AU, Omegaverse, Modern times with Edwardian social structure.Omega Sherlock, out of options for another job, goes into the traditonal Omega occupation of male nurturer. His very first job is taking care of 16-month-old Hamish, son of the highly respected, socially connected widowed doctor, Alpha John Watson. He grows to love the kid very quickly, which he hadn't expected, nor did he expect to fall for the Alpha quite so hard.Much as they hit it off, though, and whatever behaviour John exhibits, Sherlock knows that they are too far apart socially, even without John still being in love with his wife. His time is limited. Isn't it?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another commission for my sweet girl. She really is the best.  
> I've mixed a bit here, modern setting but with victorian/edwardian social structure, as far as it goes. Male nurturers is my invention, for what it's worth, since I couldn't think of a word that combined maid, nurse and governess in one. :)

“Sherlock? Sherlock, are you there?”

_Of course I am. You pay me to be here and I’ve got work to do. Where else would I be?_

“Sherlock!”

“Yes! We’re right in here.”

“Oh, thank god for that,” John said as he appeared in the doorway. He smiled at what he saw but the brunette knew that the smile wasn’t directed at him. Rather, it was targeted towards the bundle of energy trying to wiggle out of his hold.

It still set his heart beating a little bit faster.

“John, if you’re not confident I can do the job, then perhaps…” Sherlock began as he handed over the toddler in his arms, small fingers already making grabbing motions towards his daddy.

John grabbed hold of his little son and sat him on his hip immediately, one arm securing him instinctively. “That wasn’t what I said at all,” he interrupted, sharply.

 _No need to say it when you’re constantly implying it like that._ He didn’t say it out loud, though, because despite what he’d just said, he really didn’t want to lose the job.

When he had first applied for the position, he’d done so partly out of lack of options but also quite decidedly out of spite.

Mycroft hadn’t believed that he would ever search for a way to actually _earn_ a living, let alone something like that, and he most certainly hadn’t thought that his baby Omega brother would managed to get the position.

Truth be told, though he would never admit it out loud and certainly not to his brother, neither had Sherlock. He might be an Omega, the secondary gender normally most associated with that type of job, but apart from that very basic requirement, he in no way resembled the classic image of a male nurturer, as the position was usually named.

That called for a man with fairly wide hips and some pudge on him. He should have a soft, open face, a gentle voice and a quiet, gentle demeanour. The physical appearance would show how suited he was for carrying a child and the rest how he would be good for the care and nurture of the child afterwards.

Tall, thin, with long legs, a narrow waist, a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind, Sherlock Holmes was about as far from fulfilling the traditional criteria of a male nurturer as he could possibly get. He normally couldn’t care less, as child-rearing was not even remotely a job that he had wanted to do.

The positions that he could get as a young, unattached Omega was, to put it mildly, rather limited, however, which was also the reason he had to bite the bullet and apply. He sadly knew, somewhat to his cost, that very few people would take him seriously in the profession that he _wanted_ to do.

So, if he could get a bit of credit by having had such a traditional job, that was what he would do.

Still, he certainly hadn’t expected to have gotten the job at the very first place he applied, much less been employed by an Alpha like John.

It had taken him about to the end of the interview to have fallen good and hard for the man. The physical attraction had been instantaneous the moment he’d seen him, though.

Back in the present, he was faced with an employer who was looking at him with a somewhat angry frown that would have worked a whole lot better if he hadn’t had a child of sixteen months fiddling with the collar of his jumper and the tip of an earlobe and making small happy noises.

“When will you be back?” Sherlock asked, sidestepping the issue.

He also sidestepped the Alpha so he could get to all the toys that his charge had managed to unload unto the floor. It was amazing how quickly and effectively he could do that. He completely missed the expression flitting across the Alpha’s face and the small grabby hands now directed at him.

John wasn’t about to let it go that easily, however.

“This has got to stop.”

“Asking for return times?”

“All these assumptions that I don’t really want you here.”

“I’m not in a position to assume anything.” Which was true enough, given his status as servant-yet-not.

“Oh, for heaven’s –!” It was likely that only consideration for the boy in his arms was keeping his anger in check. He sighed. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, fine.”

He hiked his son a little higher on his hip. “We’re just popping down to see what Sarah’s knitted for Hamish, that’s all. We won’t be more than an hour or two, I promise. You can come, too, if you like,” he added, as though it was an afterthought. In all likelihood, it was.

“I would, only I’ve got my plate more than full right now, I’m afraid.” He still hadn’t turned around to face the blonde. He straightened. “But thank you for the offer.”

John sighed, looking at a telling rigid back. “I’m sorry she was rude to you, Sherlock. She’s a good person, really, she just – “

“She just lashed out at me because she thought that I was trying to weasel my way into the household as well as your bed this way,” Sherlock took a breath before continuing, “which was of course a considerable danger to her own plans to do just the same, only without having to go through the more tedious route of actual work.”

“Sherlock!”

The brunette finally turned around. “Am I wrong? Doesn’t she continue to knit those outfits for Hamish even though anyone who spends any time with him knows full well he hates that kind of wool and scratches at himself like mad whenever it’s put on him? Are they not almost studiously done in colours designed to work for girls as well as boys? He’s clearly a boy, so the only reason to do that is to draw attention to potential siblings that might also be given those outfits to wear.”

He gave a small, tight smile. “It doesn’t take a genius to work out what her true intentions are, but of course it’s not up to me to decide whether those are welcome intentions or not”

John sighed. “I ought to have known that she’s looking for some sort of security. Thought she might just have been charmed by you, little rascal,” he said to his son who smiled at him in turn. “You seem to charm everyone you meet.”

 _It isn’t only Hamish that manages that,_ Sherlock thought, his heart doing a series of hard thumps inside his chest as he watched his employer walk out of the nursery, talking to his son as though he was a much older child. Hamish seemed to appreciate it, however, looking up at his dad with the look of concentrated interest of the kind only a toddler could give.

Sherlock turned back to the task at hand, mind racing while he did so. He honestly couldn’t decide whether it was reassuring or frustrating that John seemed completely, genuinely unaware of just how attractive he himself was and how many people threw themselves at him in one way or another.

Sarah was not the first one by a long shot, not even when you only counted the roughly eight months that Sherlock had been working for the Alpha. She was perhaps one of the more persistent and insidious examples, though, as she had chosen to try and win John over slowly without giving any too overt hints, the food she prepared as well as the unwelcome knits only part of it.

Possibly she was aware that she was at a disadvantage from the start. She was a Beta woman in her mid-thirties but more than that, she wasn’t from the most well-renowned or even wealthiest of families. Far from it, as a matter of fact.

John, on the other hand, was a Watson, a long line of highly respected and well-paid doctors known not only for their skill, especially on the battlefield, but for their discretion in handling delicate matters. More than one had been a personal physician to important members of the royal family.

Though he had no financial reason to, the blonde Alpha had been working for some years, some of it as a medical officer in the army and some as a doctor with his own practice. At this point in time, however, John did not have any sort of job and had, for the time being, shut down his practice.

He was still officially in mourning, after the death of his beloved wife, the mother of Hamish, twelve months previously and as such, he was not expected to return to the mess that was higher society much less anything resembling a job, for the foreseeable future. Normally, mourning was allocated around a year but given that he had also had a small son to take care of, he had been given some extra leeway in the eyes of his social peers.

“She could at least not try to hide that she has been engaged three times before. It’s not as though it isn’t painfully obvious as it is. Well, to anyone besides John,” the Omega muttered, bent over his task of preparing tea for John and Hamish. It wasn’t most interesting of chores and as such, he had plenty of time to let his mind wander.

Despite the inherent inanity of most of the things entailed in his job, he’d found that he genuinely enjoyed being the caretaker of the small child. Hamish was not only beyond curious, he was obviously quite intelligent and eager to test his capabilities to their limits and Sherlock found his usual annoyance with people ebbing away in the face of the obvious fascination and observation of everything around him that the boy had.

An example of just how fond Hamish was of Sherlock in turn came when he and his father returned, half an hour earlier than expected; as soon as the boy saw the Omega, he broke into a big grin and stretched out his arms and hands, leaning forward so much that he was in danger of toppling out of his father’s arms.

“Easy there, little guy,” John laughed, changing his grip so Hamish wouldn’t fall anywhere. “You won’t get to him any faster if you fall on your head in the process.”

“He does have a doctor for a father, though,” Sherlock pointed out. He reached out and caught Hamish as he made another lunge at him. “It ought to negate most of the immediate problems.”

“Being a doctor doesn’t mean being able to mend everything,” John replied and while there was an undeniable tightness in that statement, it wasn’t nearly as pained or full of grief as it had been when Sherlock had been new in the job. The brunette took some satisfaction and pride in that fact.

In an attempt not to stir up more unpleasant memories, he chose not to say anything more on the subject and instead just offered a smile. It was a bit unsure, as his smiles tended to be, especially in the presence of the Alpha, but for the same reason, it was also far more genuine than normal.

He got a soft smile in return, John seeming to understand his intentions in a way that Sherlock was quite unfamiliar with but which only sent the warmth the Alpha engendered inside of him tingling and his heart fluttering.

They stood staring at each other for a few moments, Sherlock enjoying the opportunity to take in just how broad and strong the Alpha was, how handsome his face and how intoxicating and _masculine_ his scent, especially this close to him.

Apparently feeling left out, Hamish uttered a series of angry noises and pulled at a strand of dark hair that he was about able to reach. Sherlock grimaced at having his hair pulled and grabbed hold of the tiny hand.

“No,” he said in a firm voice, then repeated it when he got a pout for his trouble.

“He missed you, that’s all.”

“We haven’t been separated long enough for him to genuinely miss me,” the Omega pointed out, shifting Hamish so he couldn’t get to the hair, “and even if he had, he still shouldn’t be pulling my hair to get attention. Ow. Stop it, you horrid, little pest. Yes, I know you keep doing it because you’re hungry as well as attention-seeking but your food won’t be done any quicker this way.”

He walked with Hamish back towards the smaller kitchen that he normally used. There was a larger kitchen in the house that would be the more logical choice but Hamish didn’t like the echoes in there, so the one attached to the traditional governess’ quarters had become his habitual one.

It didn’t take him much longer to prepare the bite-sized vegetables, cheese bits, potato mash and small sausages, as much of it he’d prepared as a big batch earlier in the week.

“Do you want to feed him or do you have other plans for the evening?” he asked John, trying to sound more casual than he felt.

He could handle Hamish without a problem by this point and felt comfortable doing so, provided he had something to keep him mentally stimulated, especially during nap times, but having to handle John as well wasn’t quite as easy.

Sarah wasn’t the only one with unreasonable hopes and desires, after all, and he often struggled to keep a lid on them enough not to be called out on them.

Not that he thought John would pick up on anything, even if he was to flirt quite openly. But there was the decided risk that if he slipped up while they were out in public, he might give ammunition to the people who already wasn’t keen on John having taking on a male nurturer instead of a female one.  Especially when he wasn’t showing any sign of being interested in a replacement for his wife.

The feeling inside wasn’t helped when the Alpha came up close, put a hand on his arm and smiled that special, lopsided smile that sent Sherlock’s knees to wobbling.

“Actually, I was thinking that we could eat together tonight.”

The Omega blinked then blinked again. “I... there’s only food enough for one meal,” he admitted.

John frowned. “You’re not seriously…you’re telling me that you were planning on not eating anything tonight, aren’t you?” He got no answer. “Sherlock, we talked about this. You’re supposed to take of yourself as well as Hamish.”

“I am.” He tried to pull his arm away. The doctor held on.

“You’re not if you’re not eating properly.”

“I had something for lunch,” Sherlock replied, trying not to sound defensive. “I don’t need much food.”

“Says the stick-figure.”

Anger boiled up over the nerves and guilt. “Would you prefer that I was chubby instead, then, like a good Omega should?” he snapped. “Does it so rub you the wrong way that your child’s carer doesn’t fit the traditional image of an Omega that you need to take every opportunity to let me know?”

“What? No!”

“Then why are you so insistent that I conform?”

“I don’t want you to conform, I want you to live!”

That stopped Sherlock dead in his tracks as much as Hamish beginning to whine over the raised voices. He picked up the toddler from where he’d put him in his high chair while he’d prepared his tea, rocking him almost instinctively to try and soothe him.

John stared for a moment at the scene in front of him, an undefinable emotion flickering across his face. Then he seemed to shake himself. “I just…I worry about you, Sherlock.”

“Why?”

“Why? How can you ask why?”

“Nobody worries about me, John.” He said it quite calmly. It was a fact, nothing more, nothing less.

An expression of pained sympathy appeared on the doctor’s face. _Oh, please, spare me the compassion. I’m not one of your patients._

“That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s true. Now, who’s ready to eat all the green stuff that he absolutely hates?”

Hamish had been looking at the Omega as he was bounced gently up and down, a perturbed look on his face. He may not know what was happening but he could very well sense that something wasn’t quite right between the two grown-ups.

Apparently deciding that it was Sherlock that needed cheering up rather than his father, he reached up and patted one bony cheek softly.

“Shah!” he announced to the nonplussed look he got from the brunette. “Shah-ah! Ah!”

The outburst had the desired effect, in as much as it dispelled the tension that had begun accumulating. “Sherlock, Hamish. Sher-lock. Not Shah. I’d be flattered but I’m hardly royal.”

Hamish was having none of it, though. “Shah!” he repeated, patting the cheek again.

There was a definite giggle. “I think you might as well just get used to that,” John said through the giggling.

He moved closer until he was standing right beside the Omega, who did his best to ignore the divinely masculine, musky scent from the Alpha, trying for a stern look as he looked at his son. “You little bugger, you only burble at me when I try to get you to say ‘Dad’ but you can make attempts at his name?”

Hamish turned his attention to his dad. He grinned and brought his other hand up to one of John’s cheeks. The doctor started to smile back but then felt the small hand pressing at his cheek instead.

“Alright, enough, Hamish,” the Omega could be heard saying. “Enough. Don’t push at my cheek like that. Don’t – and don’t pout at me or think about whining. It doesn’t work.” Despite the sternness of the voice, there was a soft, caring look in the pale eyes.

As Sherlock moved away to feed the boy so he’d be fed before he got completely overtired, he missed the look of longing running over the Alpha’s face.

 

* * *

 

In the end, after Hamish had been put to bed and had finally fallen asleep, John split the meal originally intended for him alone between them, insisting that Sherlock had to eat his share or he’d be paid some of his wages in food.

He didn’t listen when the brunette pointed out that would be a severe breach of their contract.

“You know, sometimes I forget that I’m employing you.”

Sherlock blinked down at his food, swallowing. He didn’t answer.

“Sounds daft, I know. Why else would you be here? Young Omega with a brilliant mind, why would you choose to spend your time cooped up here with a sad, old, Alpha widower and his little son if you weren’t being paid for it?”

_You’re not much older than me and even if you were, I’d gladly stay here with you both without getting a single penny, just as long as I’d be allowed to stay._

The man hadn’t been at the alcohol they had in the house, Sherlock had made sure of that, and Sarah wouldn’t serve it, either. So where were these maudlin comments coming from suddenly?

“Did something happen at Sarah’s?”

“You’re the one with the deductions, can’t you work it out on your own?” John asked in an almost challenging tone of voice.

_Alright, if that’s how you want to play it._

“Beyond the fact that you decided to ask her outright about ulterior motives, which she didn’t take kindly to, and she consequently made some very unsavoury remarks about Mary, which, now that you’re remembering, explains why you’re fiddling with your wedding ring, and, given your comments, she also made mention of me?” He paused and looked up at the ceiling rather than at the other. “No, John, I can’t. I do not possess magical hearing or clairvoyance. That’s not what I do and you know it. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

With that, he stood up. Before he could move away, however, he was grabbed by the elbow and held firm. For all his normally easy demeanour, John harboured genuine strength in that compact body.

“Don’t walk away from me.” There was now a warning in the Alpha’s voice but the Omega couldn’t work out whether the shiver it sent down his spine was entirely a good thing or a bad one. “Sit down.”

It was more a command than a request and Sherlock found himself sitting down again before he was consciously aware of doing so. He gazed into stormy eyes that was so easy to lose himself in.

“Why are you always moving away from me?” John asked, his tone odd.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” John insisted. “When it’s not something to do with Hamish, you’re always at a distance.”

 _Only when I’m certain you’ll notice if I am any closer, to make sure you don’t catch on and fire me. “_ That hardly fits with the implication you made earlier, that we’re more friends than employer and employee – and as I am sure Sarah would have loved to point out, we are often far closer than is appropriate for the type of relationship that we should have.”

A look of wry self-deprecation replaced the odd expression on the doctor’s face. “Do you think I care what’s appropriate?” he asked. “When I’m cooped up in here on my own most days with no one for company except a sixteen-month-old baby and a carer instead of going out and fulfilling my social obligations? Instead of smiling and dancing and looking for someone to replace Mary because it’s my duty as a Watson, as an Alpha? As a father?”

Sherlock’s snort came unbidden. “They’re all complete idiots,” he said, shaking his head. “To think that anyone could replace Mary is beyond moronic.”

He knew that for a fact and while he was quite seriously in love with John and would fight to be by his side so as not to lose him to some…opportunistic _tart,_ he didn’t even consider that it would be reciprocated. John was the type of man that had one love in his life and that was it.

That said, there was still the small hope niggling at the back of his mind that perhaps, just perhaps he could one day convince John that a consolation prize wouldn’t be so bad.

“Sherlock…” If there was any hint of pleading in that voice, the brunette brushed it off as his own wishful thinking.

“Yes, John?” he asked, quite amazed at how calm he managed to sound.

“Can we…can we start again?”

“How do you mean?” Sherlock asked. It did not mean what he hoped it to mean. It did not.

“I know I’m your employer and I know you’ll move on eventually but…well, Hamish loves you, and I’d really hate to think that we can’t at the very least be friends.”

 _I don’t **have** friends. _ The words were on the tip of Sherlock’s tongue but the tentativeness in the smile he got from John stopped him. As did the hand that had reached over to lay on top of his. He had to swallow.

It couldn’t hurt to get at least that much, could it?

“At the very least,” he agreed, returning the smile.

He was certain he imagined the relief in the Alpha’s face.

What he certainly didn’t imagine was the hand still resting on top of his squeezing.

“That’s settled.” The smile on the Alpha’s face turned a bit mischievous. “Then I expect you to come with me to all future events.”

At that, Sherlock couldn’t help a snort of laughter. “You can _try_. I wouldn’t count on a positive outcome, though.” He raised an eyebrow in challenge.

John’s grin only broadened. Challenge accepted. “Then I’ll just have to try in the right way, won’t I?”

 

* * *

 

“Sherlock! What a surprise! I never thought you would deign to show your face at one of these things.”

He gave a small, mostly insincere smile as she walked up to him, champagne glass in one hand. “Irene. I see you made good on your vow to marry up.”

She smiled, not in the least fazed by his tone or demeanour. “Yes, I know, horribly plebeian of me but it’s a good way to free up time for other, more interesting pursuits. But look at you, you don’t seem to have done badly yourself.”

She nodded towards Hamish who was clinging to Sherlock like he was afraid the Omega would disappear and leave him all alone if he didn’t hang on for dear life. It was his first time being out in such a crowd and he wasn’t coping all too well.

That was also the main reason Sherlock had agreed to come along to the damned event. He cared for his charge, far more than he had ever thought he would, and would put the welfare of the boy before anything else.

“And you’ve kept your figure, too, which is most unfair. Who’s the lucky Alpha? I’m guessing she’s blonde but…” She looked at his face. “Oh. She’s not aware that you’ve had him.”

Hiking Hamish a little higher, then running a hand through the surprising amount of hair on the boy’s head to try and soothe him, he addressed Irene quite calmly. “ _He_ is perfectly aware of Hamish’ existence and to stop you unnecessarily snooping around, trying to dig up dirt, Hamish is not mine.”

She blinked, a little taken aback. “A nurturer? You? Oh, will wonders never cease!” She laughed loudly, possibly purposely so.

“Come, let me show you something,” she said equally loudly. She grabbed him by the crook of the elbow and just short of dragged him towards the more secluded area of the party.

Once there, she let go of him after having them both sit down. “So, it is true, then? Oh, come now, Sherlock. You know the value of putting up a decent façade to placate someone or throw them off the scent. There’s been rumours about Watson having an affair with an Omega nurturer fitting your description for a long time. You must know that.”

“Idle gossip was always your domain, not mine.”

“Which you used to get us into places otherwise closed to the likes of us.” She was still standing very close to him, the scent of her perfume highlighting her natural Omega scent. “Don’t deny that it has its uses.”

“I hardly see how the gossip surrounding my employer is any of your business but that’s not going to stop you.”

“Ouch. Harsh.”

“Hardly.”

“Sherlock, I’ve been worried about you.” He snorted in frank disbelief. “No, quite honestly. I don’t hear from you in months and then you turn up here, of all places, in a job I would never have dreamed of you doing – “

“Needs must,” he interrupted, snapping slightly. “We can’t all marry wealthy magnates, can we?”

She didn’t answer but instead looked at him intently and the way he held Hamish as close to him as he could, reading him much as he excelled in doing with others. Then, of all things, her expression turned genuinely sympathetic and worried.

“You’ve got it really bad, haven’t you?” she said softly, her brilliant red lipstick disappearing slightly as she bit into her lip. “I don’t suppose he knows, either. No, he can’t, otherwise…oh.”

She stopped speaking in time for someone to stop behind them, closer to where Sherlock was sitting.

The brunette didn’t look around, however. Even if the wiggling from his charge hadn’t given it away, he would recognize that gorgeous, musky scent anywhere, no matter what other scents were in a room.

That said, he found his nose wrinkling of its own accord at the smell of another person, a distinctly female Beta trying to pass as an Omega by use of great doses of a distinctive type of perfume.

“There you are,” he heard John say. The tone was full of relief and joy but as Hamish giggled and wriggled, John wasn’t addressing him. Of course, he wouldn’t be, would he? “I was beginning to worry.”

Sherlock turned around to face the blonde and would have said something but before he could utter anything, the woman beside John apparently decided that she ought to participate.

“Oh, isn’t he just glorious!” she trilled. Unfortunately, she also decided to reach out her arms for him, which obligated the Omega to loosen his hold enough for her to grab the toddler. He certainly didn’t want to and he could scent that Hamish wasn’t interested in being picked up either; the soft scent normally coming off the little boy had gotten a bit of a distressed undertone.

 _Gorgeous,_ he thought, a bit sourly. _The word is ‘gorgeous’. Not glorious. It’s entirely the wrong word, designed to come off as sweetly dim to nearby Alphas, if I’m any judge._

The fact that she was quite young wasn’t helping his mood any.

“Have you been behaving yourself, Hamish?” John asked, his tone sweet but not overly sugared. He might have a small son but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to him like an idiot.

“Of course he has, haven’t you, you big boy?” the woman said, holding him up high and shaking him slightly. Hamish made a small noise, though whether it was a noise of delight or distress wasn’t clear.

That gave John an opportunity to look around a bit. First his eyes alighted on Sherlock and it seemed as if they brightened somewhat.

They most certainly dimmed when they caught sight of Irene, sitting in her very expensive dress that outlined more than it hid, right next to Sherlock.

“Who’s this, then?” he asked the taller man, sounding pleasant enough if you, like Sherlock, wasn’t listening for the tightness.

Since John had decided to have a woman on his arm himself, one who he let handle Hamish, which he wasn’t normally keen on, Sherlock felt under no obligation to answer him. That said, he couldn’t shake a nagging feeling of being caught doing something inappropriate and having therefore disappointed John.

They stared at each other, neither willing to back down.

Irene came to his rescue, in a way. “Well, I don’t see how Sherlock is obligated to divulge the name of others to someone who doesn’t even have the decency to introduce himself,” she said, leaning so that she was almost pressing up against the taller Omega.

Something flashed in the depths of the Alpha’s eyes and there was a small sniff that twisted his nose slightly. The gesture hadn’t gone unnoticed.

When he spoke, however, he was still the perfectly composed, pleasant gentleman of society.

“Of course, pardon my manners, miss,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “John Watson, at your service.”

“Service? Might just have to take you up on that,” she said easily as she reached out a hand for him to take. Beside her Sherlock tensed slightly. She would, given half a chance, he knew. “I’m Mrs. Adler. Irene, if you’re naughty.”

He looked slightly taken aback at that. “Pardon me. I didn’t know you would attend a gathering such as this.”

“Oh, don’t say it would be beneath me,” she laughed. “You make me feel so old. I wouldn’t miss something like this. Quite important, the start of the season, isn’t it? Social suicide not to attend. Meeting up with Sherlock is just a delightful bonus.”

She emphasized this by putting a hand on Sherlock’s thigh, just above the knee. The other Omega tensed but she made a shushing noise under her breath at him.

A muscle twitched in the Alpha’s cheek and his scent soured somewhat. He shifted his gaze to Sherlock. “You didn’t tell me you knew such influential people.” The tone was accusatory in more ways than one.

 _The last time I saw her she was making a living on the stage, which hardly counts as influential,_ Sherlock thought but didn’t say out loud. John had never asked much about his past so he did not in any way feel bad about not having divulged knowing Irene.

“Do you tell me of everyone you know?” he shot back in a deliberately pleasant tone with a small indication towards the woman currently holding his charge. “Or is that not part of our employment relationship?”

The muscle twitched again, much harder this time. “Sherlock…” he began.

He was interrupted by the still unnamed Beta woman. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Lizzie.”

She tried holding out a hand to greet either of them. The problem was that she was still holding Hamish who at the same time decided to do one of his escape attempts by leaning forward as far as he could. She let out a squeak of fright and tried to grab better hold of him.

She wasn’t quick enough and he would have fallen if Sherlock’s instincts, further cultivated through his months caring for the little tyke, hadn’t come in and made him lunge forward, just barely managing to catch the boy before he landed on the thick carpet.

His immediate focus was on making sure Hamish was alright and his cries of distress was born out of shock and displeasure rather than any actual hurt. When that was taken care of, he finally looked up and found himself being stared at by three pairs of eyes.

John was staring like he’d just had to go through his worst nightmare, which probably wasn’t too far off. Meanwhile, the poor girl had her hands up in front of her mouth and looked absolutely stricken with horror at what she’d just caused.

“I’m so sorry, so, so sorry,” she babbled. She was wise enough not to reach out to the Alpha or otherwise interact.

Irene rose gracefully from her seat. She moved over to the girl but took the opportunity on the way to run her hand through Sherlock’s mass of curls in a way that he’d always found utterly annoying and yet comforting.

“I think, my dear, that we had best get you out among your fellow debutantes,” she said, grabbing hold of the girl’s shaking hands. “Perhaps dancing for that excess energy? I know just the man for you to dance, with, too.”

She led the distraught young Beta woman out into the throng of people in the adjoining rooms, leaving Sherlock alone with John and Hamish. She could be heard advising the debutante that a woman should never be the one to introduce herself unless she was an Alpha.

“Is he alright?” John asked, his voice strained as he finally seemed to find it. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be better once he can’t smell the distress pouring off you,” Sherlock said. Truth be told, his own heart was still racing and Hamish was probably reacting as much to his scent as to that of the Alpha’s but he was somewhat cross with the doctor and so wasn’t feeling particularly forgiving at that moment.

John seemed to have picked up on Sherlock’s scent, too, however, and consequently looked as though he was ready to tell the Omega off. Only the fact that they were in public prevented him from blowing his lid.

Unfortunately, Hamish picked up on that as well; he was quite perceptive in his own right. He clung to Sherlock, burying his small face in the Omega’s neck, right at the point where his scent gland was located, while making small noises of distress.

John took a step forward, clearly pained by what had happened and how it had affected his boy. Before he could take Hamish, though, someone interrupted them.

“Captain Watson – I _thought_ I’d seen you on the guest list.” The voice was deep and resonant, the kind of voice that steamrolled through a conversation and was impossible to overpower, much less refuse.

The Alpha immediately straightened up, as though pulled by the invisible strings of military lines of command, and turned towards the voice. He saluted.

“Sir!”

“Oh, none of that now. Not exactly your commanding officer anymore, am I?” The man smiled as he came level with the blonde. “Terrible business, that, with your wife and…well, terrible business. I don’t suppose we will see you back among the officers?”

“No, sir. Strictly civilian life for me, now. I have – “

“Well, then, good show that you’re out and about on such important social evenings as this,” the man said, almost painfully jovial as he interrupted. Neither that nor the hand clapping onto his shoulder was appreciated by the doctor; Sherlock could tell from the increased rigidity of his back.

“Now, I do hate to pull you away like this from such eye candy but there are a few people that do not believe me when I tell them I was the commanding officer of a Watson.”

Sherlock used that opportunity to stand up and be a part of the conversation, even if only briefly. “Before you do,” he said, softening his voice to fit the more traditional speech of an Omega, “could I persuade you, colonel, to call a cab for me and the little one? I’m afraid it’s far past his bedtime now and he’s feeling it.”

“Of course, pet,” the colonel said good-naturedly, using the nickname that was traditionally used by Alphas and Betas towards Omegas that they did not hold in very high regard. “Must be quite daunting for such a young thing to have to come to this place.”

Sherlock gave him the most sickly-sweet smile he could muster. “He’s been a right little trouper, sir, he really has, but he has his limits.”

“Of course he does, of course – it’s a good thing he has such a caring mother, eh?”

 _Yes, quite so,_ Sherlock thought to himself. _A mother that you think has no business here on his own, with his presumed child taking attention away from who it should be on. But then, you have a set of twins, both Omegas, where you’ve allowed the girl to be a debutante here tonight but the boy is not allowed because he should go into the military, regardless of his wishes. So, to have a male Omega with a child here where your son could see is only undermining your rather brutal authority._

None of this made it past his lips, mostly because he didn’t want to cause any more grief to John. What had happened had not been his fault, of course, but that was another matter entirely.

“I try,” he said instead, modestly, still playing at the good, traditional Omega. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, colonel – or perhaps the gentleman here?”

He turned to John who was looking at him as though he’d grown another head. At the same time, however, his pupils seemed to have dilated, even if only slightly, and his scent was a fair bit heavier and muskier.

 _Does he find the traditional Omega behaviour that much more appealing?_ Sherlock couldn’t help but wonder. It made his heart sink even further.

“I’ll…I’ll help you hail a cab.” The words were almost choked out.

“Nonsense. It’s your first night out, John, you should make the most of it.” The colonel put a big hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. “I’m sure we can find you a cab in jig time, pet. Come along.”

His grip on the shoulder meant that the Omega had little choice but to follow, only able to nod towards his Alpha employer.

 

* * *

 

He had barely gotten into the cab, Hamish still clinging to him for dear life, before a sound came from his coat pocket. He dug into it and pulled out his phone. There was a message from John.

_‘Let me know when you get him safely back home’_

_‘Enjoy your evening. – SH’_

_‘Sherlock’_

_‘Let me do my job and trust that I am perfectly capable of doing it. – SH’_ Honestly, John should seek some sort of counselling for his abandonment issues.

There was a significant wait before the answer came. ‘ _I know. I’ll be home soon.’_

Sherlock sighed, knowing that the concern and sentiment wasn’t meant for him. ‘ _Just enjoy the evening. He’s perfectly fine, John. – SH’_

To prove his point, he took a picture of the boy in his lap, who had started to nod off, and sent it to John. Then he resolutely put his phone back into his pocket. His job was caring for Hamish, not pining over the boy’s father at every given opportunity.

That said, he felt glad that he had such a strong bond with the little boy. It had been brought home to him this evening with startling clarity; he would not only never be a serious contender as a new mate for the Alpha, he would have to come to terms with the fact that someone _would_ become John’s new mate.

He might still be very much in mourning but the fact of the matter was that he _had_ to take a new mate at some point. That someone wouldn’t like having a potential rival in the house and so Sherlock would naturally have to go. Or rather, he would have if he and Hamish hadn’t become so close.

As it was, the little boy needed the stability that came with being looked after by someone he was comfortable with, someone he trusted. For whatever reason, that person, apart from his father, had been Sherlock more or less from the moment they had met.

It had been quite an odd meeting. Sherlock had responded to the ad, though it had been extremely vague and given nothing away about the potential employer, but he hadn’t expected the man who opened the door to him to have been the owner of the rather large house, much less such a prominent man in society.

John had been very pleasant but despite the casual clothes, the shorter stature and the easy smile, there was the indisputable fact that legitimate strength and power lurked in that compact, muscled body. Even if one didn’t look close enough to observe that, all it would take would be one sniff of his positively delicious, musky scent; John Watson could fuck you or fuck you up if he wanted to and either way, you would be nothing but a begging mess.

How Sherlock hadn’t been caught out on straining against his trousers the entire interview, he still didn’t know.

Most of it had consisted of him just interacting with Hamish. He’d sat down on the floor where the boy had been crawling around, playing with his toys, fully expecting not to be acknowledged or if he was, it wouldn’t be in a good way at all. After all, his track record with kids hadn’t been great and he’d started to doubt the sanity of his choice before he’d arrived at the door.

At first, it had gone as he had expected. When Hamish _had_ acknowledged him, he had sat down on his nappy-covered bum and just regarded the tower that Sherlock must seem like to him silently. He had a bit of a frown on his face as he looked, as though he was trying to suss just what and who Sherlock was.

The silent scrutiny went on for a few moments. Then the small boy seemed to nod to himself. He crawled forward towards the grown-up sitting down, stopping briefly when he reached his long legs and sniffing. He made a small, pleased noise and crawled the rest of the way into the Omega’s lap.

“Aiah!” he exclaimed happily and reached his arms up. When Sherlock grabbed hold of his small hands and smiled at him hesitantly, he giggled softly and wiggled where he sat.

“Hello Hamish,” the Omega greeted quietly, trying his best to sound soothing to the toddler without sounding condescending at the same time. He remembered hating being talked down to like that when he was a child.

Hamish seemed to appreciate it. “Haah. Buwa-ah!” he exclaimed, grinning and bouncing.

Behind him, Sherlock could hear John try and fail to suppress a giggle of his own.

He then felt a hand fall onto his shoulder. His heart missed a few beats at that.

“That’s pretty much unequivocal,” John said. “You’re hired.”

At Sherlock’s look of sceptical surprise as he turned his head in John’s direction, the Alpha had smiled softly, understandingly.

“I’ve had several others come around for the interview,” he explained. “It’s gone really well with them, lots of credentials and references. Then they’ve sat down with this little bugger and he’s sat there, just looking at them, calm as you like. He’s then just crawled away, completely uncaring of whether they were there or not. You’re the first one he’s taken a shine to like that.”

“I wouldn’t call this taking a shine to and he might still change his mind.”

“Hardly. He’s a pretty good judge of character, in my experience.”

“He’s barely nine months old.”

“So?”

Sherlock had to concede the point and with that, he had not only a new job that he’d never thought he’d get but a serious crush on a gorgeous, dominant Alpha that would never reciprocate his feelings.

Back in the present, they had arrived back home. The cab driver, a sweet elderly woman, cooed over Hamish and told Sherlock that she’d waive his fair, just this one, ‘for the little one’.

“Looks like you’ve got your uses, then, little bugger,” he commented to the sleeping weight in his arms as he let himself in.

The house was quiet though that was hardly surprising at that time of night. With his thoughts and worries running rampant inside his head, the quiet seemed quite eerie, however.

“Why did you have to have such a bloody handsome, divine smelling, completely perfect Alpha for a father?” he mumbled. Hamish only gave a small, sleepy mewl in response. “Yeah, I know, you don’t care a bit so long as you’re fed, changed and spoiled rotten.”

He walked towards the nursery. Once there, he gently put the toddler down on the changing mat. Changing him while he slept was going to be tricky, to say the least, but since he was clearly beyond exhausted from the ball, the Omega hoped to be able to manage it.

He did, somehow, and the boy was changed, in his sleepsuit and put down into his crib with his favourite blanket over him soon afterwards.

“Wonder how long _you’ll_ need me,” Sherlock found himself whispering into the silence of the room, standing over the crib.

He knew he was being far more sensitive and emotional than he would ever normally allow himself to be. He knew that it wouldn’t change anything and that it stemmed from the realization that he’d let himself fall into a situation that he could only lose, and lose completely and utterly, but despite all of that, he couldn’t stop it all from welling up inside of him.

Hamish stirred and made a small mewl. Frowning, Sherlock bent down to see what might be the matter. Several dots of moisture shone in the low light on the boy’s face, another periodically appearing. Was he sweating? No, they were too large for that.

The Omega still reached out to feel the forehead of his charge. It was only when his hand got in the way and the moisture appeared on his hand instead that he realized that it was tears and they were coming from him.

He stared in incomprehension; he never cried. When was the last time he had cried actual tears? He couldn’t remember and had probably deleted the incident from his memory in any case.

Knowing that he was crying did not make the tears stop falling. He wiped away the ones that had fallen on Hamish, shushing him and rocking the crib until the boy mumbled and went back to sleep, then sat down so his back was leaning against the crib.

 _And people say it’s such a blessing being an Omega,_ he thought sardonically as he continued to cry, attempting to be silent so as not to disturb Hamish. _What an absolute load of bull._


	2. Complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions hang in the air after the debutante ball, Sherlock all too aware that he's on borrowed time as far as staying with John and Hamish. When they get an unexpected visitor, he feels his fears have been confirmed. Have they, though?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. The amount of response to the first chapter was frankly mindboggling and I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for it all! <3 Thank you, all, you are the absolute best :D

“Sherlock? Sherlock!”

John almost came bursting through the front door two hours later, his dress uniform already open at the -front, his hair shaken loose from the swoop it had been groomed into at the start of the evening and his scent held undeniable traces of distress and worry.

Fortunately, he was a bit quieter when he reached the nursery and saw that the little light hanging over the crib was on through the half-open door. He called out significantly softer this time and when he still got no answer, he pushed the door open gently.

What he found was two sleeping figures, one lying peacefully on his back with the blanket kicked off, the other sitting slumped against the side of the crib, mouth slightly open and legs splayed out in front of him.

“My two very favourite people,” he said softly as he walked over, his gaze equally soft as he looked at them. He bent over to gently stroke Hamish’s little, chubby cheek a few times.

There was a small noise but it wasn’t coming from the slumbering toddler. John turned his attention to the figure slumped against the side of the crib.

“Oh, Sherlock,” he whispered. He crouched down so he could get a better look at the Omega, sitting on his haunches to do so.

“You’re a right piece of work, you know that?” he said, knowing that he wouldn’t be heard. “I’m surrounded by gorgeous young people, most of them just presented and from very influential families, for an entire evening and all I can think of is you, with your sharp eyes, plush lips, gorgeous body and divine scent, and that’s not even mentioning your brilliant mind.”

He sighed heavily. “You, with my son sitting on your non-existent hip like it’s the most natural thing in the world and it seems so utterly pointless to be anywhere where the two of you aren’t.”

For a moment, he hesitated, unsure of just how deeply the Omega was sleeping. Then he took a deep breath in an attempt to overcome his uncertainty and reached out, starting to run a hand over a soft cheek, much as he had with Hamish just a few moments before.

Starting to smile at the feel, it froze when his fingers encountered something that should not have been there, crusting the surface. He drew his hand back and put it up to his nose, sniffing.

His suspicion that it was salt from dried tears were correct.

“Oh, Sherlock,” he repeated, his heart clenching at the thought of the fairly young Omega sitting there, all on his own, crying where and when he thought nobody would find out. “Whatever’s caused you to cry, love?”

At a complete loss as to what he ought to do and whether the taller man would appreciate any of what came to mind for the Alpha, John rose back up, but not before leaning forward to brush the dark, silken curls out of the way so he could plant a soft kiss on the Omega’s forehead.

The man mumbled but did not waken.

John walked as quietly as he could back out the door. He stopped in the doorway and looked back.

“If only you knew, Sherlock,” he whispered with a sad smile. Then, hearing what he’d just said, he snorted at himself. “Then you’d probably run a mile, knowing my luck. Thank god for you being so attached to Hamish.”

With that, he walked out, softly closing the door behind him.

 

* * *

“Morning.”

Sherlock made a face. He may have a knack for sitting, lying and sleeping in odd positions but that did not mean his body liked sleeping sitting up against a crib for an entire night, short though it had been. It made its protests known quite loudly.

“Morning,” he mumbled, making his way towards the small table in what was, in all but name, his kitchen, plopping down opposite his employer. He hadn’t expected John to be up before him, especially not at this time of the morning, but then, he might only just have gotten home.

The thought rankled in Sherlock’s mind and he took a deep breath that was anything but subtle before his rationale could pull him up short and prevent him from doing so.

There was the smell of several people, many of them young Omegas, clinging to the Alpha despite him having changed out of his dress uniform. That fact on its own was not conclusive, though, but when taken in conjunction with the fact that those scents were all there was, with no pheromones expelled during sex clinging to him, it managed to calm Sherlock down somewhat.

_Oh, grow up, Sherlock. You know it’s only a matter of time before it happens. You might as well come to terms with it._

“You okay, Sherlock?”

“He’s _fine_ , John,” he said, more sharply than he would have even if he had intended to voice his thoughts. “Sleeping like a lamb when I checked on him five minutes ago. I’ll have him up for his breakfast in another ten minutes, I promise.”

A broad, strong hand reached over the table and grabbed hold of a bony one. The Omega, who had been looking resolutely down, raised his head to meet the steady gaze of his employer.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” The words were spoken softly, with a tinge to them as though Sherlock was a timid animal.

“It…wasn’t?”

“No. Do you want me to take Hamish for the day? I realize that you haven’t been used to company for a while so yesterday must have – “

“Why do you keep insisting that I am incapable of doing this job?” Sherlock snapped and attempted to take his hand back. He had forgotten quite how strong John actually was, however, despite his time spent as a civilian and then as a grieving widower, and his attempt was completely fruitless.

Despite the situation, it caused a small twitch two places in Sherlock’s nether regions.

“I’m not.”

“You are!” the brunette insisted, his mental defences and barriers not having risen back up after they’d fallen the night before. “You keep on checking up on me, watching me like a hawk and asking me if he’s alright or whether I’m sure I can handle it.”

“That’s not the reason I’m watching you,” John mumbled under his breath, so quiet that Sherlock couldn’t hear.

“I don’t suppose it matters much, though,” the Omega said as he looked away, unable to keep a bit of bitterness out of his voice. “I’ll be booted soon enough.”

That caught the Alpha’s attention. “You what?” he spluttered, disbelievingly. “What have I done to make you think that?”

“It’s a simple deduction, John. You don’t need a nurturer nor does Hamish. You need a wife, someone who can stand beside you as an equal and what Hamish needs is someone who can be a proper mother for him. I’m only your employee, sorry, your friend, but that doesn’t equal that I would have any place here once you find that.”

“Where would I find that?”

“Oh, _please,”_ Sherlock scoffed. “As though it wasn’t obvious just how many people throw themselves at you.”

But John was frowning like he’d just been given the news that in fact, the moon was not only made of cheese but that regular expeditions had gone up there for centuries to collect.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” He only got silence so he carried on. “That girl hanging off you yesterday, for a start. Or Sarah.” _Or around a couple dozen others, come to that._

Blue eyes narrowed and the Alpha’s scent soured slightly. Sherlock involuntarily swallowed.

“Like you’re one to talk,” John said in a low voice that was even more full of ominous anger for being so low. “Apart from people staring at your arse, you had a voluptuous beauty practically draped across you.”

It took only a moment for Sherlock to make the connection. “Irene?” he said, frowning with disbelief. “Really, you think that I’m interested in _her?”_

“She’s certainly interested in you!” the Alpha growled, the grip he had on the bony hand close to crushing. “And it wasn’t as though you made any attempt to fend her off.”

“I’ve known her for years. We were at school together.”

Despite the grip and the anger, Sherlock couldn’t help responding to the man. He wouldn’t have credited it before he’d gotten the job – in fact, he’d always scoffed at the strong, masculine Alpha stereotype – but he’d found that when it came to John Watson, powerful and dominant turned him on immensely. It really wasn’t the situation to be aroused and leaking but he couldn’t have helped it if he tried.

John undoubtedly must have picked up on the added notes to Sherlock’s scent, as he was much more acclimated to its normal notes than he had at the beginning of his employment, but it seemed like he thought they were caused by Sherlock thinking of Irene.

“Looked like more than a mere friend to me,” John snapped, confirming the Omega’s suspicion.

“The same could be said about you!”

_Shit, that wasn’t meant to come out. Why the hell am I so utterly incapable of keeping my emotions even remotely in check right now? Did I forget to take my suppressants? No, I took the one for the day before we left for the ball. So why? It doesn’t add up._

He was brought back to the present situation by a low growl.

It was emanating from John’s throat and he was probably unaware that he was in fact doing it. The threat of it wasn’t helped by the relatively calm expression of mild disbelief, the eyebrows raised and the faintest of smiles playing.

“Is that what you think of me? That I wanted us to be friends merely so I could more easily coerce you into an affair or something?”

Sherlock paled quite significantly from that accusation, though even he couldn’t say whether it was from anger or guilt.

A thump coming from the nursery put an immediate stop to their brewing argument as they both froze up. They looked at each other in horror, then scrambled to get up from the table, down the short hall and into the nursery, both terrified of what they might find there.

What they did find was a crib that had fallen onto its side and a puzzled and slightly teary-eyed from the shock but apparently unhurt toddler was on all fours halfway out of it.

Owing to his longer legs, Sherlock reached the boy before his father. He promptly scanned the small body, using his skills of observation to ascertain whether there was any sort of injury that wasn’t immediately apparent.

Unconsciously, he was making soothing noises and putting the boy’s nose to the crook of his neck, giving him access to the Omega’s well-known scent where it was the most concentrated.

John righted the crib and came up to them. Strangely, he didn’t ask if his son was alright this time. Instead he just walked up and wrapped his arms around both Sherlock and Hamish, squeezing tight.

It was a wonder Sherlock didn’t either bolt right for the door in panic or press forward and kiss the living daylights out of the other man. As it was, he froze up. They had never been quite this close before and it was doing things to him, most of all his nether regions.

That John himself swallowed heavily a few times and his pupils dilated quite significantly, the brunette managed to miss completely, somehow.

Soon enough, the boy sandwiched between them began to wiggle and squirm; he’d gotten over the incident and was now noticing that he hadn’t had anything to eat for _hours_.

He pushed at the chest in front of him and gave an unmistakably disgruntled wail, which caused both grown-ups to chuckle.

“Yeah, we’re most definitely being stupid, Hamish, we know,” the Alpha said, still chuckling. He took a step back and moved his hands up to take the boy, who Sherlock readily passed over.

“You don’t have to pull stunts like that to get us together,” John continued as he settled Hamish against his side and bent his head to kiss him on the forehead. “Now, how about we run a nice warm bath for you and perhaps, if we’re good and we ask extremely nicely, we can persuade Sherlock to make a really good breakfast for all three of us. Eh, how about that?”

He looked up at Sherlock when he finished speaking and there was a small, very tentative smile on his lips. The brunette found himself returning it, even as his thoughts lurched on and his heart thudded in his chest.

_Don’t say things like that, John. Please. I’m feeling off enough as it is and I honestly don’t need more wishful thinking. It’s hard enough to handle as it is._

“It’s a good thing I’m a better cook than your dad, then, isn’t it, Hamish?” was all he said out loud as he made his way back towards the kitchen.

What he needed to conceal his inner turmoil and his throbbing backside was to act as though nothing was the matter. He could do that. He was good at it.

“Oi, hang on!” John called, going after him. “I can cook.”

Sherlock didn’t turn around. “Bangers and mash and baked beans on toast is not good for the development of a young child. Unless, of course, you _want_ him to grow up malnourished and stupid.”

“Yeah, cheers for that. It’s always nice to know one is appreciated.”

_If only you knew, John. Bloody hell, if only._

He stopped just inside the kitchen and poked his head back out. John was still in the hallway.

“Should I flutter my eyelashes, be utterly rubbish at anything practical and flatter you endlessly then, to appease your fragile, precious Alpha ego that needs constant propping up?” he asked, as cheerfully blasé as he could possibly manage.

It had the desired effect; John burst out laughing, the good mood restored.

“Piss off, you wanker. You’re perfectly fine as you are and you know it. Now go make us some breakfast – and I want to see three full portions on that table when I come back with the little tyke here – yes, it’s you I’m talking about. Did you think you’d get out of bath time just because you were up partying all night, hmm?”

_Perfectly fine as you are. Hah. If only._

Sherlock’s heart clenched in an odd mixture of joy and agony.

 

* * *

 

The generally good mood between them continued for another two weeks or so. A few days after the ball Sherlock got a text from Irene day asking whether he was okay as well as, surprisingly, reassuring him that John hadn’t been getting ‘inappropriately close’ to anyone on the night.

Though that did make him feel a bit better, he was still feeling the effect of his realization. Especially since that after the ball, the strange section of the world known as higher society had remembered not only that John Watson still existed but that he was unattached and just as charming and interesting as he had been before married life had swept him up.

However much he didn’t like it, the fact of the matter was that Sherlock was living on borrowed time as far as being close to the Alpha he was so very head over heels in love with.

 

* * *

 

One day, the doorbell rang quite late in the afternoon. John was out meeting an old acquaintance or so he had said when he’d gone out. Not that he was obligated to tell Sherlock anything but that didn’t mean it wasn’t appreciated he remembered to. It was extremely thoughtful.

When Sherlock opened the door, he expected it to be Sarah coming ‘round to make another try. She had not taken too well to John having stopped coming ‘round to see her after their falling out that day and had come over a few times since then to try and plead her case, all of it without much success. Once having made up his mind, John was anything but easy to sway.

It was not Sarah. It wasn’t anyone he had ever met before but all it took was one quick look at the man standing in the door to ascertain quite a few things about him. A single, subtle inhalation revealed that the man was an unbonded Omega with a scent that appealed to even Sherlock, fellow Omega though he was.

“Yes?” was all he said by way of greeting. He was due to make Hamish’s tea in another ten minutes and he really wasn’t in the mood for trivial pleasantries.

“James Moriarty,” the man said with a pleasant yet slightly unsettling smile. He didn’t hold out a hand. “My friends call me Jim.”

“I am not your friend,” Sherlock said coolly.

The man, Jim, didn’t seem put off by the tone. “No, because you don’t have friends, do you, Sherlock Holmes? You keep to yourself, all high and mighty, and yet you’ve ended up in the most traditional job that an unmarried, unbonded Omega could possibly do?” He chuckled. “Oh, I have been looking forward to meeting you for a while.”

“Why are you here?”

“So hostile. What would your precious employer say to that?” The other Omega leaned closer. “Or does he like you to put up a bit of a fight before he claims you?”

He took the opportunity to inhale deeply, undoubtedly getting a lot of Sherlock’s scent into his nostrils. When he looked back up, the pupils of his chocolate brown eyes had dilated slightly.

Sherlock paled a bit at the obvious sign of lust. That was about the last thing he had been expecting to see. He took a step backwards and was about to slam the door in the face of the strange Omega when the man spoke up again, halting him.

“My…well, let’s call him my business partner is meeting up with your little doctor today and I was asked to meet him here. Probably won’t be for a while but my own business wrapped up earlier than expected, so I thought, well, why not? You wouldn’t want to tell your…employer that you’ve kept me standing outside all that time, would you?”

Reluctantly, Sherlock opened the door wider so the other man could step inside. He didn’t wait so that he could shut the front door after them but went ahead into the kitchen, leaving Moriarty to do that, if he so chose. He would be damned if he didn’t get tea ready in time, at the very least for Hamish.

The other Omega trailed after him and sat himself down at the table, at the exact place where John usually sat. it could be deliberate or entirely accidental, though Sherlock had a suspicion that it was very much deliberate. The man struck him as almost as sharp and observant as Sherlock himself, reluctant as he was to admit it, even to himself.

Ignoring the man for the most part, the brunette went to pick Hamish up from his playpen. It might be beyond irrational but with someone else in the house, he felt a lot better with Hamish somewhere he could keep an eye directly on him, even if he couldn’t actually hold him.

Moriarty gave another smile when they re-entered the kitchen.

“Well, there he is in all his glory – oh, and the baby’s quite cute as well.”

Sherlock gave what could be called a smile, if you were feeling generous in your description. Otherwise it might more closely resemble a grimace.

“I’d offer to help but cooking is not my speciality,” the shorter man said, watching as Hamish was placed in his high chair with his favourite soft toy and his dummy firmly stuck in his mouth.

Hamish studied the new person that had been brought into his territory in that special, intense scrutiny that only small children could manage. Most people cracked under the gaze and tried to diffuse it somehow by smiling or making funny noises or the like.

The shorter Omega didn’t as much as flinch, however. He just stared back, calm as anything.

He won’t quit, no matter how long you keep that going,” Sherlock eventually commented, his back turned as he prepared dinner. “Just so you know.”

“Oh, I know that. The stubbornness of the Watsons is quite famous. Or infamous, as the case may be. Besides, we’ve met before, haven’t we, Hamish?” He smiled slowly, his teeth gradually revealed.

Hamish frowned, unsettled without knowing why and not liking it.

The frown turned to a pleased gurgle a moment afterwards. It was as much a result of his shock of hair being ruffled by his carer as his food being put down in front of him.

A moment later a cup was placed in front of Moriarty or rather, it was held out in front of his face.

“Tea?”

“Ah, no. I – “

“Only drink Earl Grey other than your preferred brand when the milk and sugar has been added before the hot water and the tea bag, the milk and sugar preferably filling up at least half the cup?” Sherlock interrupted, rattling the cup slightly on its saucer for emphasis.

He knew it was showing off but he didn’t really care. The man was invading his home, trying to unsettle him not just with ostensible intellect but by showing off his apparent knowledge of Sherlock himself, his supposed prior meeting of Hamish, which would also have had to have included meeting John himself, and his deliberately undisguised lust.

Moriarty grinned as though Sherlock had just given him a huge compliment and proved him right at the same time.

“Clever Sherlock,” he said as he took the cup and saucer, his fingers intentionally touching the brunette’s as he did so. “You really are wasted here.”

“I should rather do what you do?” Sherlock asked, taking a sip from his own mug. “No, thank you. I do prefer the genuine baby’s vomit than the metaphorical ones from grown-up babies. The first is significantly easier to get rid of.”

Moriarty chuckled. “Indeed.”

They were quiet for a long while after that, Sherlock’s attention more on making sure Hamish got more food in his mouth than onto the floor and on the guest. As food-happy as the boy was, he was also quite capable of acting up and playing just to see what would happen.

“Are you not going to ask me?” Moriarty eventually inquired, after a little over half an hour had passed.

“How you know so much about me?” Sherlock pretended to consider. “No, I don’t think so. I can guess just fine and it doesn’t really interest me, in any case.”

“Liar.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Moriarty wasn’t fazed but before he could open his mouth to say something else, the front door could be heard opening and soon enough, two figures entered the kitchen.

Sherlock took in the unfamiliar Alpha. He had thought there’d been something in Moriarty’s scent that didn’t quite fit with the normal scent markers of an Omega and now he could smell what it was.

_So, they’re screwing on a regular basis but they’re not bonded and Moriarty fools around with a few more, just because he can and he has such an alluring scent that he can have his pick of not just Alphas but Betas and other Omegas as well._

Sherlock felt his heart clench. He knew he was biased but John would be a prime candidate for Moriarty to try and seduce.

_At least he wouldn’t be after becoming the new Mrs. Watson…or maybe…oh, shut up, Sherlock. For once, just shut up._

“I see you’ve already met,” John said, sniffing discreetly to discern the scents already in the room, frowning as he caught them. Why he was frowning, however, the brunette couldn’t tell. “Evening, James. Sherlock, this is Colonel Sebastian Moran, one of my old army mates.”

Sherlock took the time to consider the man. He was quite tall, even taller than Sherlock, and even though he had clearly also been out of the army for a while, he had not yet lost the muscles it had cultivated. He might even be considered an attractive Alpha, especially when you took into account his distinctive and alluring scent, but there was also a dangerous air to him that could either draw in potential partners or repulse them.

The brunette felt more repulsed than attracted, if he was honest. With John, the air of danger sent another shiver down his spine and his skin tingling but there was a sick note to both Moriarty’s and Moran’s scents that was nothing but revolting.

Despite that, when the man came far closer than necessary to shake hands and his hand was grabbed and squeezed rather than shook, the pheromones coming off the taller Alpha were strong enough and hit hard enough for Sherlock to be somewhat overwhelmed and consequently affected by them. He managed to stand his ground but he couldn’t help the shiver that ran across his entire body.

John affected him both body and mind but an Omega’s body could have a mind of its own at times and so Sherlock was unable to prevent his body’s response.

He didn’t catch that John was watching, his blue eyes darkened with suppressed anger while another nose-twisting sniff was made. The broad shoulders had also tensed.

Moriarty did notice and smiled into his cup.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Holmes,” Moran said, his voice deep yet somehow strangely gravelly. “I have heard quite a lot about you.”

“Really? I am surprised. We must get John out more.” He didn’t mean that, not at all, but it was out of his mouth before he could control.

_What the hell’s the matter with you, Sherlock? Get a grip or you’ll be fired before you know it._

“I can see why he wouldn’t want to get out. But though the good captain does talk about you favourably, he’s not the only one.”

“Really?” Sherlock repeated, feigning naivete. Nobody was buying it.

“Indeed. Quite the talk of the ball, you were. People wondered why such a looker wasn’t out mingling. Gossiping, really.”

“People do little else.” The tension in the room was getting quite thick at that point and it wasn’t a good sort of tension, either.

Hamish chose that moment to decide he had eaten just about all that he wanted to and that the best way to indicate that he was done with his dinner was to push the plate onto the floor.

Sherlock just barely caught it and got the remaining mash, which the boy had decided he didn’t want to eat anymore, splashed all over him as a result. He blinked, then made a face.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said relatively calmly as he picked up the boy, who had also had food splashed over him, and went out towards the bathroom, walking slowly and steadily.

“Thank you,” he told Hamish softly as he pulled the toddler’s shirt and dungarees off. “You may not be a genius but you’re quite perceptive in your own right.”

The little boy made a string of noises at him, ‘Shah’ being chief among them.

He still had food stuck in his hair when everything had been taken off and so had Sherlock. So, the Omega made a quick decision. It was John alone who had visitors, not them as a pair. Sherlock’s job was to look after Hamish and right then, the boy needed a good bath. They both did.

He therefore shucked off his clothes and turned on the water for the freestanding bath. When it was halfway full of water at a temperature that they both could tolerate, he climbed in, Hamish cradled gently against his chest as he did so.

He thought he heard quite a few doors open and close as they sat in the water, getting clean and just splashing around, but paid it no mind. It wasn’t his business.

He found himself singing a bath-related song Mycroft had often sung to him when they had been small. The elder Holmes had apparently read it in some book he was very fond of and Sherlock had enjoyed their time together enough to retain most of the lyrics for the song in his mind.

“Sing hey! For the bath at close of day  
that washes the weary mud away  
A loon is he that will not sing  
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!”

It was meant to be sung heartily, if memory served, but in the circumstances, it felt far more right to do it quietly. Hamish seemed to enjoy it regardless and sang along to the best of his abilities. He splashed the water about as he sang, sloshing quite a bit over the side in his amusement. He enjoyed this kind of bath time quite a lot.

Sherlock carried on singing, surprised at how much of the song he could remember.

He didn’t hear the door to bathroom open and the steam and heat in the room made it difficult for scent to be detectable.

Therefore, it was only when a hand landed on his bare shoulder that he reacted, though he thankfully managed not to jump or otherwise make sudden movements.

“Don’t stop singing on my account,” a voice said softly and the Omega relaxed as he immediately recognized it as John’s.

When he realized that the water, even with its clouds of soap suds, didn’t cover him very well at all, he felt his heart rate speed up again. It would be very difficult to conceal any of the physical reactions John always managed to induce in him and he desperately hoped that the man would move away, preferably out of the room. Either that or bend and snog the living daylights out of him. Either would do the trick, really.

So, of course, instead John chose to go over and find Hamish’ towel, the hooded one with the otter head on it that Sherlock had found for him, as well as the biggest one there for Sherlock himself.

“Right, then, you little tyke, no more lovely hobbit songs for you,” John said as he picked up Hamish from the bath, his eyes thankfully fixed on the wiggling boy who liked being picked up but certainly didn’t feel he was done with playing around in the water.

“Hobbit songs?” Sherlock found himself asking, confused. He sank lower in the water.

“Yeah, the song you’re singing, that’s from ‘The Lord of the Rings’,” John explained while he dried off the toddler sitting on his own little seat put there for that purpose. “Didn’t you know?”

“Why would I?”

“Well, you were the one singing it. There, all dry, Hamish, and you can stop being a terror just because we’re having visitors. Couldn’t you take after Sherlock in just about any other way than his anti-social tendencies?”

“Pot and kettle, John,” the brunette said, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, true.” There were a few moments pause, then he spoke again. “Up you get, mister.”

Sherlock’s eyes shot open, not believing his ears, and flicked over to the side of the bath where his eyes were met with a sea of fluffy white. Only John’s hands were visible as they held up the towel.

“What?”

“The guests have gone, there’s no reason for you two to keep hiding in here.”

“If you recall, your son managed to drench both of us in mash. That’s not hiding.”

“Up you get, Sherlock.”

 _“Fine_.” The tone was hard so he might disguise just how jittery the situation made him. He rose to get out, carefully keeping his back turned towards the Alpha as he stepped out backwards.

Before he could grab the towel and wrap it around himself, however, it was put around him by strong, warm hands. Even though the fabric draped over bony shoulders well enough for it to stay on, the hands didn’t let go. Instead they started to rub the long, lithe body up and down, drying him off gently.

It could almost be called sensuously and it was all Sherlock could do not to moan loudly and buck into the contact. As it was, he was biting his lip and fairly trembling from the stimulation as well as the knowledge that it was _John_ who was touching him in this way, even if there was a towel between them.

This was cruel. There was no other word to describe it. If John wasn’t aware of what he was doing and the implications thereof, he was going a bit far in trying to take care of his employee and if he _was_ aware of it, that just made him cruel. Especially if he was even remotely aware of Sherlock’s feelings.

_Which he probably is now, given that Moriarty picked up on it; I could see it in his eyes when John and Moran came back and he looked between John and me. It would only make sense for Moriarty to let him know, just to see what would happen when I was found out._

Yet, that still didn’t quite make sense. Not because he thought the other Omega incapable of doing such a thing, as he’d managed to deduce quite a lot about him in the little time they’d spent together, but because John wasn’t treating him any different. Yes, he was pulling an unprecedented stunt by rubbing Sherlock down like this but otherwise he wasn’t acting any different than usual. At least he hadn’t been when he’d come in.

Still, with the man so very close and his scent now in the humid air and consequently intensified, Sherlock’s trembling was closer now to a full-blown shudder and he could feel a trickle of slick running down his inner thigh and mixing with the water already trailing its way downwards.

Sherlock, with his back turned, didn’t catch that the Alpha’s eyes had dilated quite significantly, he was breathing heavily and his tongue wetted his lips almost constantly.

Then he seemed to pull himself together. John cleared his throat and took a long step back. He picked up Hamish and walked quickly out of the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

Sherlock hadn’t moved the entire time.

When he finally managed, after what seemed like ages, to get his body enough under his control again, he finished rubbing himself down, briskly wiping away any trail on his body, whether it was water, slick or tears.

 

* * *

Once dry, he moved directly towards his own room without checking up on his charge. He was with his father and about the last thing Sherlock wanted right then was to come face to face with John. He wasn’t sure he could keep himself from lunging at the Alpha and beg him to take him if he saw him right then and there.

“Mycroft would be laughing his fat arse off if he knew just how bad this has gotten,” he muttered to himself as he pulled on clothes, trying to find some sort of composure. Though he wanted to go to bed more than face anyone, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be allowed to entirely wiggle out of the social obligations that evening in the house entailed.

If nothing else, he needed to let Hamish scent him before bedtime. It was partly that it was needed from a purely biological standpoint but it had far more to do with the fact that it had become a ritual for them both and without it, it was quite difficult to get the toddler to sleep.

So, he got dressed and just about remembered to take his suppressant pill. That it was a bit off its usual location was something he only dimly registered, his head buzzing with a lot of other thoughts as it was.

He truly needed to find some way to get his reactions under control. There was no way he was getting over John but he might just find a way to cope. He had to.

 

* * *

 Sherlock didn’t feel well. He couldn’t even be accused of just being overly dramatic as was his wont. Quite genuinely, he felt off. His skin was clammy and warm in that special pre-illness way and there was a dull ache in his bones.

He hadn’t said anything to John that morning, though. He’d been about to when the Alpha had said he’d be popping out for the day to see Moran and Moriarty again. He would be home again for tea but it was unlikely it’d be any sooner than that.

That had shut Sherlock up quite effectively, with a lump getting stuck in his throat. He could guess what they would be getting up to and he could conjure plenty of mental images of the three together, with and without clothes, without having the confirmation.

So instead, he had just risen from the table, wished the Alpha a good day in a somewhat curt voice and went into the nursery to get his charge ready.

Before John had gone, Sherlock had decided that he’d take Hamish out for the day as well. He ignored the looks he got from the other pedestrians as he walked through Hyde Park with the stroller containing a very curious and excited boy. That would be fine if he could be relied upon to stay inside the carriage. As it was, he was only stopped by the straps of the stroller.

“Yes, I know you’re having a ball but we’re not stopping yet. Stop trying to do an escaping act.”

As his attention was on keeping his charge in the stroller instead of in the water they were walking by as well as the hotness and itchiness of his skin, he didn’t notice that someone had come up behind him until they were right up close.

More specifically, they were right up close and grabbing hold of his arse. He froze.

“Why, hello there, sweet cheeks,” a male voice purred. “You’re sailing a little close to the wind, aren’t you, being out in public like this?”

The man, unquestionably an Alpha, moved even closer. “Not that I mind, though – good lord, you’re detectable at forty yards and you do smell delicious, I must say.”

His own Alpha scent was quite strong, even outside on a rather windy day, and could be considered traditionally enticing but despite that, it only filled Sherlock’s mind with disgust and a desire to get away rather than get closer.

“Sir, you shouldn’t do that,” he said calmly. He was still standing up straight, hands gripping onto the handles of the stroller without any sign that he felt uncomfortable with the situation. He wasn’t going to give the man the satisfaction.

“Oh, and why not?” The tone was almost condescendingly kind.

“Because then I might be liable to do this,” Sherlock replied as calmly as before. He took a careful step back so that the heel of his shoe – and given his profession, they were hard, slightly high heels that were something of an indicator to those around him who got close enough –  hit the toes of the man’s boots hard enough to crush.

As the man swore in surprise and pain, he started to double over as well and that was when the Omega judged him to be at the right height for his elbow to hit him in the upper chest. He rammed it backwards.

It turned out that he miscalculated slightly and consequently, what he hit was between the man’s clavicle rather than the upper chest. The man wheezed and tried to grab at the Omega but Sherlock moved forward, hands still on the handles of the stroller as he made it do a hard right so that the man could crumble to the ground unimpeded.

Nobody stopped him or called out to him. To any outside onlookers, he was a parent out on his own with his child who had been assaulted by a random Alpha without any provocation; he was well within his rights to lash out, if nothing else to protect his child.

As he ran back towards home, a little hampered by having to navigate the stroller over the rather uneven pavement as well as the itchiness of his skin and the beginning dampness between his cheeks, he mentally cursed himself.

Why hadn’t he picked up on the signs? They ought to be more than obvious to any Omega who had experienced more than their very first Heat.

Maybe it was because it had been so long since he had last had one. In fact, he’d been on suppressants for most of his time at university and ever since and as he had resented every Heat before that, he’d deleted as much about it afterwards as he possibly could.

He ignored a concerned looking Omega woman attempting to stop him as he reached the park entrance. Making a quick estimation of how fast he could get back home on foot with a stroller in the throng of pedestrians in comparison with how assailable he was liable to be if he instead took the tube, he headed left.

The question of just how this was happening remained. He hadn’t gone off his suppressants at any point since he’d started taking them and even though they were hardly the strongest out there, as his occasional occurrences of slick could attest to, they should prevent him from going into a full-blown Heat. Yet here he was, with no doubt whatsoever what was going on, trying to make it home in one piece.

Hamish was making small distressed noises which Sherlock couldn’t help but hear, despite the din of the city happening all around them, and he realized with a sinking feeling that making it home wouldn’t be enough. No one was home to take care of Hamish and the brunette wouldn’t be in any state to do so himself by the time they reached home, he could feel it.

So, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text with one hand, keeping his eyes on the road.

_I need your help – SH_

The reply came a few minutes later and he had to bite his lip in frustration when the answer did come.

_Sherlock! What a lovely surprise. What can I help you with?_

As though he had time for pleasantries right then.

_I need you to take Hamish. – SH_

_Sweet of you. I’m sure we’d have a ball together. Would John approve, though?_

Running out of patience, he took a moment to stop so he could type with both hands. It went much faster that way.

_I need you to take him now! John isn’t home, I am still nowhere near home and my Heat is starting! – SH_

The answer came very quickly.

_Oh. Sorry. Of course, I’ll meet you there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More tension, more angst :D I had so much fun writing Sherlock with Hamish and Sherlock and John arguing and Moriarty is always fun, though the visit was brief. I know there's a few things not explicated - all on purpose, I'm afraid ;) ^^


	3. Heat and consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time Sherlock reaches home, he knows two things: one, his Heat is unequivocally starting and two, he is about to lose his position, one way or another. What he hasn't calculated with, though, is just what John's reaction is going to be when he, too, reaches home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am absolutely blown away by all your frankly amazing feedback. It's heartwarming, humbling and such a tremendous joy! Thank you.  
> EDIT: Okay, so apparently I messed up on the copy-paste of this chapter from word-document to AO3 and consequently, I left out a portion of the text. The entire scene of Sherlock reaching home and talking with Irene has now been restored at the start. :) It makes a few things make a little more sense. Sorry for my goof-up

Indeed, when he reached the front door of the Watson home after what seemed like ages but was actually only twenty minutes later, Irene stood there, in a sensible coat that nevertheless reeked of expensive quality.

As soon as she spotted them, she came forward in what could only be called a rush. She bent down, unbuckled the straps and lifted Hamish up out of the stroller. He made a small noise of discontent at being picked up by someone he didn’t know while the man who took care of him was in distress.

“Perceptive, aren’t you?” Irene asked, picking up on the boy’s distress. After she’d made sure she had a firm grasp on him, her eyes flicked to Sherlock.

“Oh, good lord, how on earth did you ever manage to get all the way back here? You’re…” She trailed off.

“Do you think I don’t know?” he snapped, the itchiness of his skin and the burn starting at the small of his back making his patience wear even thinner than it already was. It’s been bloody hell all the way here.”

“You, using common swearwords? You are in a bad way.” Her look of pained understanding belied the lightness of her words. “Give me the key. I’ll follow you in to get some things for this little tyke then I’m out of your hair, I promise. Text me when it’s passed. I need to contact John to let him know I have Hamish, so I need his number. Shall I tell him what’s happened?”

_No. Yes! No! Oh, god, I don’t know. Can’t think. Can’t think, just need…_

“He’s…he’s out visiting today,” was what he said out loud, his voice cracking slightly as he fumbled for the keys in his pocket. “Won’t be back…back until this evening.”

“I’m sure whoever it is will be very understanding if – “

“It’s Moriarty and Moran,” he interrupted. He handed her the keys, knowing he would struggle to do it himself.

She paled at that news, the key clutched in her hand. “Moriarty? As in Jim Moriarty?”

“It’s hardly a common name, who else would it be?”

“That’s…Sherlock, that’s not good. Do you know the type of rumours that flourish about him?” She hurried to unlock the door and ushered the male Omega inside, following him and closing the door behind them.

“Gossip’s your business. But I can guess.” He sighed. Just thinking about it made him feel more tired and miserable than he already was. “I have known for a while, though, that my time here is limited. This whole thing is only going to speed it up.”

“Surely you wouldn’t be thrown out just for accidentally going into Heat?” She looked appalled at the thought.

All he could do in response was to shrug. He didn’t want to believe it of John, but on the other hand, he could now be said to really have failed in his job, leaving Hamish to be minded by Irene like this. Moreover, if John came home and was somehow overwhelmed by the pheromones the Omega was pumping out, he would feel disgusted and guilty by the whole thing and it would be best for Sherlock to spare him.

“You always were too horribly noble for your own good, you silly boy,” she said softly. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. When she pulled back, she had left a perfect imprint of red on it.

A small smile was on his lips and he returned the gesture. Hamish made a disgruntled noise at being passed over like that. Sherlock chuckled and pressed a series of small kisses to the boy’s cheek which made him giggle.

“Off you go, Sherlock.”

She watched him as he wobbled his way down the hall and to the left where it forked, to the back of the house where his small room was, noticing just how damp his trousers were and how much he was shaking.

“I know you don’t want me to,” she said softly to empty air, “but don’t think for a moment I’m leaving you here to be miserable.”

She smiled down at Hamish. “You’d like to see your dad make sure Sherlock wouldn’t ever leave you, wouldn’t you? Yes, I know you would. Shall we see about calling him, then? I think all we need is for a strong-willed Alpha to get a proper whiff of such a strong Heat of a man he’s obviously head over heels with and well…you might have yourself a half-sibling before you know it.”

She dug for her phone in her bag, texted the number Sherlock had rattled off for her and then went to look for toys and other necessities.

* * *

 

John hurried through the streets. He tried not to show it so he wouldn’t alarm anyone around him but the text he’d gotten half an hour earlier had made his stomach drop and his anger rise.

He’d had to make his excuses to the two he had been visiting, one of whom had only smiled cryptically when he’d done so, when he had received a text from an unknown number. He almost didn’t open it but curiosity got the better of him.

_John. I’m looking after Hamish for today. Sherlock is back home._

_Who are you and why can’t he take care of him, then?_ he’d typed back, a sick feeling settling into the pit of his stomach at who might have his son.

When the answer came, the feeling lessened quite considerably, at least in regards to Hamish.

_It’s Irene and he can’t because he’s in Heat. Hamish is perfectly fine. Now hurry._

Despite his years in the army, he was surprised at how quickly his body responded to the perceived danger and was propelling him back home much faster than he had thought he’d be able to.

His thoughts were a whirling mess throughout his journey, none coherent enough to form a thread.

When he did reach the front door of his home, without any clear idea of how exactly he’d gotten there, he fumbled for his key, the haste to open the door making his fingers clumsy.

Once inside, the door shut behind him, he took a deep breath. He immediately regretted it as it filled his nostrils with a scent that he had only faintly smelled on the outside.

Sherlock’s scent had been delicious on a normal day when he was on suppressants and even more so in the last week, for reasons he hadn’t quite worked out but had been affected by nevertheless. The trip to Moran’s home had been more to prevent himself from doing anything he shouldn’t than any genuine wish to see the two.

Now, with the pheromones from Heat practically having soaked through the normal scent markers, enhancing them, the effect was extraordinary and he had to lean on the door for a moment to try and pull himself together.

He ought to leave. For both their sakes, he should turn right around, go back out the door and not look back. Otherwise he might do something…not that he would regret, but certainly something that he would be resented for.

Despite that, he found himself moving and it wasn’t back out the door. Instead it was towards the end of the hall, going left when it forked and continuing on towards the room where his target was and had been for some time, given the concentration of scent there, his walk getting progressively faster.

When he reached it, he rattled the handle only to find that the door was locked.

“Sherlock?” he called. Not that there was any doubt that the brunette was in the room but there was still the worry that he had passed out or similar due to the force of the Heat hitting him after so long on suppressant.

On the other side of the door, Sherlock let out a small groan. He’d drifted off into a not-quite-slumber as soon as he had taken his clothes off and crawled into bed, his body desperate for the rest before it all kicked off, as it were. He’d been woken back up by the front door shutting hard and a fresh wave of the scent that he was always so affected by, even on a normal day.

“Damn you, Irene,” he muttered as he heard steps coming towards his room. “Damn you to hell and back.”

He heard John call out to him as the handle was rattled and he couldn’t decide whether to be thankful or resentful that he’d had enough presence of mind to lock the door.

“Go away, John.”

“Sherlock.” The handle was rattled once again, as though shaking it enough would somehow magically unlock it. “Sherlock, are you okay?”

The Omega was about to shout something but his body had apparently taken the proximity of the Alpha he was so longing for as permission to go fully into Heat and he instead let out a long, high-pitched moan. God, just the _smell_ of John was enough to send him into a proper state.

His name was called again but more importantly than that, there was a thump that sounded like a body hitting a wooden surface and hitting it hard. It came again and after another go, it was accompanied by the sound of wood splintering.

One more time and the wood gave enough for the man on the other side to push open the door.

Sherlock lifted his head from the pillow to look at John, his eyes widening at the sight before him.

John was broad by nature. Stocky, perhaps, but only insofar as it compacted him into a pleasingly packed body, one which exuded strength, toughness and vitality. His stance and his general demeanour only served to enhance those things and while his face was open and apparently friendly most of the time, there was always danger lurking at the bottom of those dark blue eyes.

Now, though, those eyes were the dark blue of a thunder cloud, where they weren’t swallowed by the dilated pupils, the body was faintly vibrating, the breathing came heavily and there was an unmistakable, and by Sherlock’s estimation quite big, something tenting the front of his trousers.

Once he saw the Omega, the Alpha growled, causing the brunette to let out a small whimper. He rose up on his elbows so his torso was lifted.

“Please, John.”

“Please what, Sherlock?” John asked and his tone was low and dangerous. It sent a hard shudder through Sherlock and his entrance and cock both gave a spasm. “Please leave? Are you really asking me what? This is my house. I have a right to be here if I want to.”

“That’s not…I meant…you can’t…” God, he needed to think, needed to explain his reasoning. But he couldn’t. The Heat had made thinking hard enough on its own and now, with John and his fantastic body and his delectable musky scent in the room, too, it had become downright impossible. Even stringing together sentences in his head was becoming difficult.

“Can’t what? Can’t be in here? Why? Have you planned to have someone else come here? Someone else to help you through your Heat?” The tone continued low but with that tinge of danger that warned a wrong answer wouldn’t be welcome.

“No…no one.” Sherlock shook his head. “Promise. No one.” He needed John to know that.

“You know, you send a lot of confusing signals,” John commented, deceptively calm as he began to move towards the bed, shedding his shirt as well as his vest as he walked, pale eyes watching his every move. “Not only do you wear those tight outfits that ought to burst off you, you move like you’re trying to flirt with the entire world around you and yet, though the world tries to flirt back, you ignore it completely and instead lavish your attention on someone else’s child.”

He stopped at few steps from the bed. “And you have no problems letting Alphas and Omegas alike fawn over you but anything resembling a relationship, even if it’s only a friendship, you shy away from like it’s going to hurt you.”

Pale eyes stared at him, just about taking in what was being said but at the same time, he was very aware of just how close John was to him, now naked from the waist up, and it was a tremendous effort even to just lie moderately still. He wanted the Alpha to touch him so bad.

“Now you’re in Heat and while you locked the door, you still came back here when you could have easily gone to someone else’s house or even a hotel.”

“I didn’t…have time…time before…” Sherlock started but trailed off as his mind became preoccupied with the visual of John putting a knee up on the bed. He automatically moved to reach him, to get closer and touch skin but a glint in the doctor’s eyes stopped him.

The Alpha finished crawling onto the bed, moving so that he was kneeling on top of the Omega, a knee on either side of the bony hips, thighs taut as he held himself in a position that ensured no part of him actually touched the brunette’s skin.

“You’ve been such a tease, Sherlock. Always leading everybody on with no intention of following through.” He saw a minute shake of the head. “No? You deny it? You haven’t been leading people on? You’ve certainly been leading _me_ on for quite some time.”

Again, he got a shake of the head.

John growled. “Don’t lie to me, Sherlock. I won’t have it. You’ve been wafting that sweet, sweet scent under my nose so long, your pert little arse in the air as you bend to pick up some toys.” A small smile appeared on the Alpha’s lips. “Well, now you get to reap what you’ve sowed.”

He moved his hands, which had been resting against his thighs until then, up so that one had hold of his trouser zip while the fingers of the other rested against the trouser button, ready to flick it open.

The pale eyes were glued to the movement of the hands and where they were situated. As John slowly started to lower the zipper, a tongue came out to wet suddenly dry cupid bow lips.

Once the zipper was down and the button had been flicked open, the flesh underneath was clearly visible pressing against the fabric of the red boxers. A small, suppressed groan came from John at some pressure being released while a small whimper escaped Sherlock.

“John…” he moaned softly. This close, with only such a relatively flimsy material covering it, the musky smell was hitting him straight in the face and was making him salivate.

He rose a little more on his elbows, which brought him close enough to reach the organ with his mouth. He didn’t, as he wasn’t sure how that would be received by John, but he parted his lips slightly in invitation, his eyes flickering up to lock with John’s.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, John. _Please_.”

He wanted it. No, he _needed_ it. He needed to have some part of John inside of him, marking him, even if wasn’t going to be permanent. He had wanted John for so long, he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this, no matter what it might cost him. Not that he had much ability to think of possible consequences at that moment, in any case.

As he spoke, his breath ghosted across the cloth-covered cock and the sensation was enough for the member to twitch and its owner to let out a tiny groan.

One calloused, broad hand went to the waistband of the boxers, starting to pull them down at the front, while the other moved to grab hold of the Omega’s chin, guiding him towards the erection slowly emerging from beneath red fabric.

Not that Sherlock needed to be guided but he appreciated being given clear, though non-verbal permission.

Just before his lips touched the rigid, generously proportioned flesh, he inhaled deeply and groaned at the pheromones flooding his senses. Somehow, he managed to sit up more properly, not so much to get a better angle on what he was about to do but so that he could put some pressure on his backside at the same time.

John wasn’t keen on been denied, however, and the grip he had on the brunette’s chin tightened. He didn’t pull but the message was clear.

Sherlock moved forward, his mouth opening and his tongue snaking out to lick at the head first, relishing the taste, then licked a long swipe from the bottom of the shaft, bending his tongue so as broad a part of it as possible was touching. His eyes closed of their own accord, just enjoying the sensation.

He licked a few more times before the hand on his jaw stopped him. He looked up, pleading in his eyes.

“Suck,” he was instructed. The hand on his jaw moved to the back of his head, pressing him forward. Relieved, he did as he was told, opening his mouth wide to take in the girth of the cock in front of him.

He’d never given a blowjob to anyone before and was therefore feeling a bit unsure. But his instincts were there to help him and so was his Alpha. John pushed at the back of his head gently but inexorably, which allowed him to take more of the cock into his mouth than he would ever have thought himself capable of. Just before he reached his gagging point, the pressure stopped.

If Sherlock had had the presence of mind to consider it, he would have suspected that he made small noises just prior to the gagging point which John would have picked up on.

His instincts went to work then; his lips closed more firmly around the flesh in his mouth while his tongue made small flickering motions. At the same time, he was making small noises in the back of his throat, the vibrations of which went right to the Alpha’s cock.

“Oh, gods, Sherlock, yes, just like that. Now pull up, slowly, yes, good…don’t stop the licking. Yes, good boy.”

Slowly the Omega managed to build up a rhythm, unconsciously rocking back into the mattress every time he pulled off so he could put some pressure and friction on his aching, leaking entrance. The combined sensations of the Alpha’s musky scent in his nostrils, the feel of the flesh in his mouth and the strong muscles of the thighs under his hands and the press on his sensitive ring of muscles sent him into a state of mild euphoria.

His body screamed for more but at the same time, you couldn’t have pried him away from where he was if you tried.

When one long-fingered left the muscled thigh and tried to snake its way down to add a bit more stimulation to the leaking hole, however, it didn’t get very far before it was intercepted by a strong, calloused hand.

“No.” The voice had lowered an octave and was stern and warning but nevertheless, it still sent a shiver down the Omega’s spine.

Sherlock whined and tried to pull off so he could speak and plead his case. The other hand was still on the back of his head, however, and it held his head in place.

“Right now, your body is completely mine and so is your pleasure. Any satisfactory form for pleasure you get will come from me and _only_ from me, do you understand? Do you _understand?”_

The hand moved to tangle its fingers in the curls at the nape of the Omega’s neck so that it could pull the head away, keeping a slow steady pace until the head rested against a plush lower lip, a bit of pre-come leaking and mixing with the saliva already there.

The tip of a tongue pushed softly against the tip in an almost apologetic manner.

“Fuck, Sherlock!”

“Please, John.” The words were slightly indistinct, owing to the lips not moving much so nothing moved. “I need…need…”

Without the cock in his mouth to distract and delight him, he was in absolute agony, his skin on fire, his entrance aching and leaking and his own cock genuinely throbbing.

The Alpha smiled and ran the hand up from the nape of the neck through the soft curls, the Omega leaning into the touch. The smile then turned slightly wicked.

After shuffling so his cock wasn’t touching anything, John’s hand moved down, quickly, to the straining erection tenting and leaking onto the covers just about hiding the lower part of the brunette’s body, closing around it in a firm grip.

Sherlock gave a strangled noise of surprise and pleasure and he unconsciously bucked up into the touch as much as his position allowed, which wasn’t much.

It didn’t matter, though; on the Alpha’s very first stroke up, the Omega gave a choked, desperate noise and began to shake as his first orgasm shot through him, soaking the sheet. He moaned John’s name, pleading and pleased.

“That’s it, gorgeous, let me hear you,” John growled appreciatively, watching the expression on Sherlock’s face with rapt attention. His hand had rapidly snuck under the sheet to milk the spasming dick, prolonging the orgasm and soaking his fingers.

As the Omega’s limbs became heavier as a result of his orgasm, he began to sink backwards into the mattress. The Alpha allowed it, taking in just how the pale, lithe body stretched on its way, admiring the smooth, creamy skin and the lovely, dusky nipples that had hardened into little nubs, ripe for being suckled and teased until they ached.

“Mine,” he growled. He shifted forward and bent so he could catch those plush lips in a kiss that was closer to a possessive devouring than any normal kiss.

Not that the Omega seemed to mind; he moaned appreciatively, his hands coming up to grab at broad shoulders as he kissed back, letting the Alpha dominate the kiss.

When they separated, they were both panting and Sherlock looked positively dazed. However, though a bit of the edge had been taken off for him by his orgasm, his hips kept shifting; upwards to try and touch the blonde’s heavy, generously sized erection with his own, downwards to put some pressure on his hole.

“Alpha…” he whispered, pleading.

“Mine,” John repeated in that voice that promised delicious danger, leaning down so he could mouth along the long, slender neck, dragging his lips and teeth across the soft skin in a way that made the taller man shudder. “ _Mine.”_

“Yes, yours, please, yours,” Sherlock moaned. He kicked at the sheets until his lower body was free. Once that was done, he lifted one of his longs legs up to hook around the hip of the Alpha. “John, I need you.”

“Do you, Sherlock?” John asked, deceptively calm as he continued to mouth and lick at the soft skin. “Do you really need me? Not just whichever person happened to be nearby to service you?”

He bit ever so gently at the sensitive area where the jaw met the neck, which earned him a keening gasp.

“You, I need you. I’ve needed so you long, please. I promise I’ll be a good Omega. Promise.” He turned his head so he could nuzzle into John’s throat in turn, licking softly in a submissive gesture. “Need you inside, Alpha, need you to fill me. Don’t want anyone else.”

His pheromones intensified as his desperation mounted and in response, the Alpha’s scent grew even stronger, filling the nostrils of the Omega to capacity and consequently only making him wetter and looser, his body doing everything it could to convince the Alpha that not only was he ready and willing, he was more than capable of fulfilling the role of the Omega.

With what could only be called a snarl, John pulled away but only so he could divest himself of his trousers, boxers and socks, which he somehow managed without getting completely off the bed. Once naked, he settled back onto his knees, grabbed hold under the calves of the brunette and dragged the legs up to his waist, where they automatically wrapped around, securing their hold.

This slid Sherlock forward slightly and sent his back into an arch but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all, since the position brought his aching entrance into close proximity with the large cock that he’d dreamt about for so long.

It did, however, mean that he wasn’t in much of a position to push back or take control in any real way; not only was his pelvis raised a bit too high for it, his shoulder blades and underarms did not provide enough support to put any strength into.

Not that Sherlock put much thought in that right then, simply because he couldn’t. The Heat was steadily driving everything from his mind but the need to have a cock inside of him, filling him to capacity, plugging him with a proper knot and flooding him with seed. The furthering of the Heat had also made his entrance even softer and looser; just the mere prod of the head of the Alpha’s dick against it parted it enough for the tip to slip in.

Both men groaned deeply at the sensation.

“You’re that desperate for me, are you?” John rumbled, pleased with what he saw; an Omega completely at his mercy and unquestionably craving him. “That ready to be parted deep inside, your passage ploughed over and over until you’re about to burst?”

Sherlock mewled in response, trying, despite the position, to press down to get a bit more inside of him. His rather pathetic attempt was stopped by a broad hand gripping firmly onto a slim hip.

“I thought I had made myself clear, Omega,” John growled, his grip gradually hardening until it was close to bruising. “You are _mine_. Mine to do with what I wish and the only pleasure you’ll get is what _I_ choose to give you.”

He pushed forward ever so slightly to emphasize his point, rotating his hips ever so slightly to tease at the rim. A hitched breath was what he got in response but Sherlock held still otherwise, biting his lips hard in effort, very determined to keep still and obey his Alpha.

“That’s better,” the Alpha praised. He waited a few moments more, keeping still as he watched the brunette struggle and try badly not to writhe, squirm or buck.

“Please…” Sherlock whispered, the word more of a sob than anything else. Pale eyes, pupils blown wide, looked beseechingly at the other man.

Finally, John took mercy on the poor Omega. Moving his hand from the hip to slide it down over soft skin until it came to a rest between Sherlock’s shoulder blades, his arm now supporting the back so as not to put undue strain on it during.

At the same time, he pressed his hips forwards, slipping easily into the loose, wet hole, which enveloped and gripped at him as he sank in to the hilt, which was mostly possibly due to the position.

Sherlock couldn’t help it; he let out a short scream of pleasure as the Alpha’s thick, long cock sank into him all the way.

The position also made it much easier for him to reach the Omega’s most sensitive areas and Sherlock’s scream melted into a softer, but no less desperate keen as the head of the cock inside of him rubbed his prostate.

It turned into a mewl of protest as John equally slowly drew his hips backwards until only the head remained inside. A beat, then another and he pushed in gently again.

All that served to do was fan the flames of Heat burning and broiling inside the Omega. It was like a thirsting man needing water and only being given the moisture off a damp rock. He daren’t move, lest he displeased the Alpha, but he moaned and gripped at the sheets.

“More, John. More, need you,” he pleaded, pushing his head into the mattress so that his neck elongated pleasingly. “Need all of you.”

John grinned. He pulled back once again, waited, then, with a great show of strength, shoved inside hard, hitting the prostate dead-on as he did so. A high-pitched noise of pure pleasure was his response along with the pale back arching wildly.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it,” the Alpha growled appreciatively as he set a hard, unrelenting pace that hit every sensitive nerve ending inside the Omega and had him scrabbling at the sheets with his hands. “You look so fucking gorgeous, Sherlock, impaled on my cock, writing and panting.”

Sherlock would have wailed in pleasure if he had had the air for it. This! This was what he’d wanted, what he’d needed, what he’d longed for for so long. His Alpha, only his, not only filling him, but claiming him with his words and his touch and…

A hand appeared in front of his eyes but it took a moment for his watering eyes to decipher it as such. Before they did, though, his nose registered the scent on them and he leaned his head forward as much as he could, tongue flicking out to lick at the remnants of his own semen still caught on John’s hand.

He got a guttural groan for his efforts and a slight change of angle that meant the knot, which had begun to inflate at the base of the Alpha’s very large cock, pressed against his entrance with every thrust. Not that he complained; he continued to lick until the semen was long gone and whined slightly when the hand was taken away.

John shushed him, running the now moistened hand across one pebbled nipple, which sent a shudder through the lithe body.

“Such a good little Omega, you’re going to be such a good mate,” the Alpha praised and it was a good thing that Sherlock was too lost in the sheer feel, taste and smell of the other man to properly register the words. Otherwise his heart would have clenched hard. “Gonna fill you up proper with seed, knot you so well that you will have no choice but to conceive, breed you so everyone will know just who you belong to.” He stopped talking for a moment, his lips splitting in a predatory, possessive grin. “So that you can’t ever leave me.”

With every thrust in, the slowly swelling knot had pressed more and more insistently against the outer ring of muscles. Now it had almost finished inflating and Sherlock was practically shaking with the desire to have it pop past, to have the Alpha’s seed flood his insides and put out the fire raging inside of him.

Without leverage, he was still completely at John’s mercy, however, and so all he could do to communicate his need was to mewl and whine and clench around the member inside of him.

“Br-breed me…” he somehow managed to whisper. “Please…bite…breed…”

The Alpha snarled and pressed hard inside, the final show of strength pushing the knot inside, locking them together as hot semen shot into the Omega’s leaking entrance and John roared his release.

Sherlock let out a wail, bucking wildly at the feeling of his passage and womb being flooded with seed, his pheromones soaring as his own orgasm shot through him hard, this time without anything having touched his cock.

Instinctively, he bared his throat for the Alpha to bite and John descended on the offered skin immediately, biting down hard at the point where the scent gland was. The skin broke under the pressure, sealing the bond bite as the Alpha licked at it. He kept licking until he’d finished coming.

“Mine!” John growled when he pulled away, looking down at his handiwork with an expression of pure satisfaction. The bite was deep and clearly visible, completely covering the scent gland and a good deal of the surrounding area. The precise shape of his teeth was even visible, leaving no doubt just what it was.

All he got from Sherlock in response was a soft, snuffling mumble. The pale eyes had closed and the body was slowly starting to feel the lethargy that came after a mating.

John gripped the lithe legs as they started to slip from around his waist, guiding them gently down and manoeuvring them both deftly around without pulling unnecessarily on the knot as he did so. Eventually they were lying spooned together, the Alpha’s strong body covering as much of the Omega’s as he possibly could.

“Mine,” he mumbled, nuzzling into the long neck. “Now you can’t leave Hamish and me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Two days later, when the Heat had finally mostly passed, John stretched under the covers as he woke. He looked around, trying to locate where his new mate was.

“Mmh, morn – what are you doing?”

The words stopped Sherlock, with his back to the bed as he rummaged, for only a moment. Then he continued carefully putting different things into a large bag, making sure that everything he needed would be able to fit.

He didn’t answer the question. It was hardly difficult to work out.

“Sherlock.”

The Omega still didn’t answer. It helped him tremendously that he wasn’t facing the Alpha. Otherwise he was quite certain his resolve would crumble within moments.

He heard the sheets rustle but he didn’t have time to move more than a step or two before the blonde was beside him and gripping onto his arm, hard enough to bruise.

“Are you serious?” John demanded, disbelief weaving into his tone of anger. “You are seriously going to run away? After everything?”

“I’m not running away.” The words were spoken relatively calmly but Sherlock couldn’t lift his gaze to look the other in the eye.

“No? Enlighten me, then, because it sure as hell looks like you are.”

“I’m merely packing to go.”

“And that is different from running away how, exactly?” The voice was now calmer but that only meant the anger was banked, ready to spring into full flame. The scent pouring off him told its own tale and Sherlock instinctively ducked slightly.

He somehow managed to persevere.

“It is different in that if I was running away,” he said, still not feeling brave enough to meet the Alpha’s eyes. “I would take far less things with me and I would have made sure you would not have been aware of it until I was well away.”

“The effect is still the same. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh?” the Omega couldn’t help asking. “Why not?”

“Because you’re not going anywhere. You’re mine.”

The word and the decisiveness and finality with which it was said sent a shiver down the Omega’s spine.

“That is exactly why I am leaving,” he said softly, the words hurting tremendously to get out. “You bit me during Heat, without any prior indication that you wanted to. You ought to be given a choice, free of influence of any kind.”

He cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the sudden lump there. “I’ve texted Irene. She should be here in an hour with Hamish. Apparently, her Alpha is now dead-set on them getting children, too, with how well she did with him.”

“That’s good. We’ll both be there to greet her, however.”

“John.” There was a note of pleading in the baritone voice.

“Don’t try to argue with me, Sherlock. You think I only did any of this because of your Heat? How can you claim to be observant and not spot just how smitten I am with you?”

That made Sherlock look up, his eyes almost comically wide. “What?” he spluttered.

“You didn’t notice? How could you not?” The tone was far more gentle and the grip on the arm had lessened considerably.

“It’s not like you have given any indications, is it? There’s an enormous gap from wanting friendship to wanting to be mated and the people you’ve shown interest in hasn’t been me. You’ve had women hanging on your arm constantly or longing to hang on it, you go out for social gatherings to mingle with your own, you have both Moran and Moriarty more than interested in – ”

Sherlock only stopped because John let out a bark of laughter at that. it was a strange laughter; as much dark and self-deprecating as it was honestly amused.

“They were interested in _you_ , you daft sod, not me. Good grief, Jim kept going on about you, even though he’s another Omega and Moran, who’s jealous of anyone getting close to Jim on a normal day, well…his eyes certainly followed you out the door when they visited.”

A thought seemed to occur to him. “Come to think of it, I think I saw Jim come out of your room just before they left. He was fiddling with his pocket and grinning slightly.”

It took Sherlock only a few moments to piece together the possible reason why. “He fiddled with my suppressants. I should have known. They tasted slightly different.”

_Dammit! Why didn’t I spot that straight away?_

“Placebos. Of course – that would explain why you went into Heat.”

John pulled at the arm in his grip until Sherlock was facing him, then put his arms around the slim waist and drew the taller man in until they were pressed up against each other, only the pants Sherlock had donned earlier a barrier between them.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do,” John began, “however stupid that noble intention is and it’s beyond moronic. But will you please believe me when I tell you that I don’t need any time to reconsider? I don’t want to reverse our bonding, at all. I’ve thought about having you be _my_ Omega for so long that it’s frankly a bit scary. I don’t care if you’re not a traditional Omega, if you’re not of my class, if you’re brash or a little antisocial.”

He looked up into those pale eyes full of uncertainties, doubts, disbelief and tentative hope. “I cherish the time we spend together and I’ve spent so long fearing that one day, you would get sick of Hamish and me and find out you could do so much better, be anywhere else other than here.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere else,” Sherlock said in a small voice.

John smiled in a way that made the brunette’s heart leap in his chest. “Then stay with me. With us.”

“But John – “

The Alpha put a finger on plush lips, halting the words. “No buts, love. We both love you deeply and we want you to stay.” Something seemed to occur to him. “You remember saying that we didn’t need a male nurturer? That it was a wife and a mother that was needed?”

Sherlock nodded. Then his eyes went wide again and a choked noise escaped him as John took a step back, then slowly lowered himself until he was on one knee, gripping a bony hand gently between both of his broad ones.

“I know the bonding’s supposed to come after, but…Sherlock Holmes, I adore you and I love you. I want to be by my side always. So, will you please marry me?”

The Omega squeaked, his brain short-circuiting at the information he was getting that just didn’t compute. His eyes flickered over every inch of John’s face, trying to look for any indication that he had heard wrong or was being played for a fool, somehow.

He found nothing of the sort.

“Well?”

“Y-yes,” Sherlock finally managed to stutter, his brain struggling to reconnect. “Yes, John. Yes!”

His legs crumbled under him after that and he sank to the ground. It didn’t matter, though, as his Alpha, his bond mate and soon-to-be husband was there to catch him, pull him close and give him the best snogging of his life.

“Mine,” John said in a possessive, yet loving tone of voice when they parted. “Only mine. Forevermore.”

“Yours,” Sherlock agreed, his heart and mind content in a way he couldn’t ever remember feeling before.

“Right, then,” John said after a short pause. He surreptitiously slid his hands down to cup the pert arse, kneading for a moment. Sherlock moaned his appreciation but then let out a small, slightly squeaky noise as all of a sudden, he was lifted into the air by the strong arms of the Alpha.

“John!” he protested, squirming slightly against the muscled chest, but all he got was a cheeky grin.

“I’m not finished with you quite yet,” the Alpha laughed and carried his new mate back to the bed without any effort.

“Irene will be here soon,” Sherlock pointed out, feeling that he ought to. He wasn’t complaining about his position, though.

John smiled as he gently dropped the lithe body onto the mattress, then followed it, a predatory, possessive gleam in his eyes.

“She won’t mind waiting for a bit, I’m sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here endeth the story. A few has mentioned that they've been saddened by the fact that it would end after only three chapters and that is so sweet. This was a commission that I split up for flow reasons so yes, it is a finished story as it stands.  
> That said...well... :) ;)  
> It's been tremendous fun writing in this -verse :D

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to split this up into more than one chapter because as usual, I can't write something short to save my life. I promise continuation won't be long
> 
> Feedback is loved and treasured. :3


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